"Fair enough Stefnir, you're in charge. Mind you, I will be asking to take a look at that shrine to Krakis on the other side of the harbour. I can ask for the blessing of Krakis for the village and the people while I'm there."
"Huhw muh shuhd wuh suh uhbuht duh cuhsed shuhp?"
Translation:
Partly out of curiosity, partly out of boredom, Anya moves over and stands in the doorway and watches Breda approach. Her expression is neutral, neither hostile nor friendly. Her hand rests lighjtly on the haft of hear spear.
"I'd leave it to what we know ... something odd, something unusual, we don't know that it's cursed, just that some scary things happened. If we say too much he might declare us all sorcerers and have done, and that wouldn't be too much fun."
"Yuh, thuht wuhld buh nuh 'n duhffrnt...", grumbles Ragnar, mostly to himself.
"Shuhp suhms cuhssed uhnuhgh tuh muh, buh whut duh uh knuh?," he shrugs.
Translation:
"Ship seems cursed enough to me, but what do I know?"
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Breda arrives dressed in a fur cloak, mainly black beaver but some pure white like Saorise's and some brown mottled deerskin around the base.
She talks more formally than before, showing more honour and respect in her voice.
"Lord Mercik and his advisors, Tavnia Goldfingers and Sawrik One-Eye wait for you in Bombur's Hall. Please follow me."
Walking up the slope and across the rope bridge takes only a few moments and at the far end waits the single old man with his longspear. He nods seriously at Breda as she passes, "I see you, Breda Spearslayer, as guard to the Hall, I request that no arms be drawn or blood may be spilled in defence of our Lord." The last words are aimed at the party.
Freki and the boys trail along behind Anya and Helga. As everyone crosses the compound, the apprentice blacksmith lets out a low whistle and points over at a cold forge and empty smithy.
Up ahead there are two of Breda's guards with axes and shield, either side at of the open double doors at the top of the steps. Each has a helmet with a noseguard. Breda continues up and into the torchlight Hall. There are three pairs of low pews and three long tables down both sides heading towards a set of three chairs on a dais. Lying lazily beside the middle chair are two large dogs with shaggy coats.
Four more guards at standing ready by the chairs and the door wardens have closed the double doors to allow more privacy. Not one guard is a young man all are either old or female.
Perception check DC15
Perception DC20
A ladder goes up a trapdoor in one part of the roof probably to the bell tower. There are heavy curtains across the two side chambers, again probably to the Lord's chambers if this Hall matches many in the south.
Breda bows when she reaches the end and introduces the seated to the party.
"My Lord Mercik, son of Bombur and Tavnia Goldfingers, his godi (political advisor) and Sawrik One-Eye, his soothsayer and skald."
Tavnia is as before, all thick hooded hair and little given away, however he is now dressed in a fine satin robe, green and shiny velvet. The druid fingers a short staff of smooth white wood.
Sawrik, is a tough looking middle aged man with a great scar down his face, cutting through his milky white eye. He is dressed in fine clothes and carries a longsword in a criss-cross patterned wooden scabbard.
The Lord is blonde haired and wears a robe of white with a large symbol of Samthain and a crown of silver. He has a dagger in his belt and his feet swing to and fro under the chair. Mercik is ten years old.
Stefnir enters with a slight smile and a bow.
Perception:
Ragnar follows Stefnir in, bowing to the Lord and his advisers. His eyes flick
momentarily to one of the walls; he tries to avoid staring.
Ari enters and bows.
Perception
Ari eyes scan the room, but always return to the child in the chair.
Perception:
Helga tries her hardest to recall the best and formal ways to greet a liege in his hall, and makes sure her bard's valknot is displayed. She bows respectfully as the others do when she enters and tries not to look startled at how young Mercik really is, but initially allows the druid and the priest to speak.
Knowledge (nobility):
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The young man speaks up as if addressing the entire hall, but his voice squeaks as he starts making him blush a little, "welcome to the High Hall and my father's village of Stuvoy. My father Bombur Axelsun is away at war with the dwarves so I speak in his stead. However.....he looks briefly at the bard....however Sawrik here acts as our main advisor and diviner. Tell me who leads your band and what are your names?"
The soothsayer Sawrik fingers a pouch at his belt unconsciously, his eye taking in the details like Helga's valknut and Stefnir's dress at he watches.
Perception
Kurn enters the hall at the back the party, bows along with the others, but remains silent as he glances around the hall. This is Stefnir's domain and Kurn is not used to such places.
FW
Perception:
Entering the hall with the others Anya is visibly taken aback by the sight of a child on the throne. While she knew the Lord's son would be young she hadn't expected to be meeting naught but a boy. Still she is aware that certain actions are expected of her so when the others bow she nods her head perfunctorily. Even that is difficult enough for her for she finds it hard to give much respect or attention to a mere stripling. Instead her warriors eyes scan the room and she frowns slightly as she catches sight of the figure. She cannot make out any more detailas in the present ligjt however so passes her attention to the advisor and the frown remains on her face. Nornally she likes tough looking men but something about this one feels...off to her, sensing he is the one to watch, she does not take her eyes off him as the conversation continues.
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.... at war with the dwarves so I speak in his stead. However.....he looks briefly at the bard....however Sawrik here acts as our main advisor and diviner. Tell me who leads your band and what are your names?"
The soothsayer Sawrik fingers a pouch at his belt unconsciously, his eye taking in the details like Helga's valknut and Stefnir's dress at he watches.
Sawrik, Mercik and Tavnia wait for someone to answer.
Ragnar quietly nudges Helga with his foot.
Ragnar quietly nudges Helga with his foot.
Feeling the nudge Helga steps forward.
"Thank you, my Lord, for your kind words and generous hospitality," she begins. "Kurn Thorrnson, priest of Krakis, is our acting captain on board the Marked Albatross after our captain, Drago Longaxe, was stricken and the rest of the crew later abandoned us taking him with them," Helga begins at the top. "On land, though, he cedes to the wisdom of Stefnir Ogmundrsson, Unfettered Druid. I am Helga Evadottir Alfchild, a Skald as you may guess," she fixes the trio with an impish smile before continuing.
"Of the rest of our band, Saorise the Ice-Sorceress and Jorgen Ulrichsson Truesight are witch-hunters travelling north on a quest of their own who took passage on our unhappy ship. The rest of us were the warriors and crew that remained of that ship - my sister Anya Fiend-Fury, Kurn's brother Ari Thorrnson, and Ragnar, and Kanud, with his brothers, Thorsten and Olaf of Urgen."
Helga bows again after completing the introductions.
"My lord, we would struggle to find any gift to repay your hospitality, but we gladly offer you our services as our gift - we have many talents from strong backs and sure spear-hands to smithcraft, prayers to the gods and at the least, the simple gift to lift men's hearts'," Helga smiles and bows again as she lists her own talent last.
Diplomacy:
Kurn kistens to Helga's words and realises he's going to be in trouble with the Lord now he's been told the name of the ship. Kurn's head drops a little as he knows the Lord isn't going to be happy that he's brought a cursed ship to their village. Kurn waits for the inevitable...
Ragnar watches Stuvoy's rulers for reaction, particularly Sawrik.
Sense Motive:
" ...and Kanud, with his brothers, Thorsten and Olaf of Urgen, and Freki."
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Sawrik looks and acts friendly, he shifts forwards in the seat and directs his attention mainly at Helga. His milky eye has a slight flaw, a tiny black centre, that moves with the other pupil. "Helga, you mention many things that are important. I have heard that your drakkar is cursed, Marked Albatross is a name I have heard once before, it kills anyone that travels on board. So what is the truth of the name?"
He waits and listens, still fingering the belt pouch in his lap.
Helga grimaces at the other bard's direct question, but answers it honestly.
"Sawrik One-Eye, as one word-smith to another, I tell you truly: I know not the truth of that matter," Helga spreads her hands helplessly. "When I joined the the crew in Urgen I thought the tales of the ship the idle chatter of those who have too much time before the hearth in the long nights of winter. I never saw a ghost in my time aboard, though we had a greater share of ill luck and mischief than I thought a sea-voyage could contain."
Helga glances as Saorise and Jorgen.
"Perhaps our witch-hunters have divined more of this matter than I can guess at," she defers to them. "All I, a singing skald, can say for sure is that if the drakkar is cursed, it's curse stops at it's gunwales and it lacks in strength to end the life of a brave man. Since we beached her, all has been well."
Sense Motive (Versatile Performance: use Sing:
Is Sawrik genuinely friendly, or is he putting on a front?
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Sawrik nods at the reply, and leans in to the boy Lord for a quiet word.
The boy speaks up, mimicking a much older man, "you are all welcome in my father's village as honoured guests."
Tavnia adds, "pulls up a bench and we can talk openly of that help you offer. Our village has need of your help." His beard even twitches into a semblance of a smile briefly.
In those few words, the atmosphere lightens and quickly two long wooden benches can be pulled up for everyone to sit before the triumvirate. Two red haired women appear from one of the side curtains with large jugs of sweet mead and a dozen wooden cups.
Helga
"Cursed is a word I am hesitant to use. The target of hostile magic, definitely. Targeted by one who makes the old magics his or her chosen weapon. But trust me when I say that we will find the one responsible."
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Perception check DC15
"Enough of that. I am sure the villagers will want to hear more later when we open our doors but for now let me make it clear that Stuvoy's fate and that of this region is in the balance. The winter is already coming strong. That couldn't happen at a worse time for us. With our men away fighting the dwarves, our food stores have suffered badly. No fish. Nothing much from the woods thanks to the number of wild animals. No harvest of the crops before the cold kills it. The fruit trees and brambles will soon have lost their bounty. The old, sick and young may die in the dark of our cold winter without help. If we kill our small flocks of goats and deer then what happens next year? making bone fires are no great future, especially if the dwarves win."
"Then there is the raider Votagor, who has a fleet of ships in the west. He has taken every half-grown man from us, he has stolen our stores and now controls the seas all around."
"Thankfully we has a gift from Samthain that will help if we can bring in our harvest. The Crucible of Freya is our boon from the gods. It is a means of making food last and increase in size but needs something like an apple to work on. For every apple in its bowl, ten more arrive. Same with fish and fowl."
"That brings us to the woodland bandits that live deep inside our lands. They let the tracks and trails over grow. Those who did not wish to fight the dwarves fled our rule and live outside the law."
Sawrik folds down his fingers one by one as he lists the problems faced. "You have a priest of Krakis, we have none. You have a smith, ours is gone to war-"
Tavnia interrupts, "do not forget our vassals, the woodsfolk and fishing hamlets that owe us tithe and refuse."
The two men go quiet for a moment.
Perception:
Ragnar sits and continues to keep his mouth shut, drinking his mead slowly and trying not to get too much into his beard.
Perception:
Helga pauses and tilts her head at the smell, then shrugs slightly.
"If your vassels have the same problems you do, perhaps they have no tithes to send," Helga suggests. "In any event, you are in greater need than we first suspected, and there is much to be done, it seems."
Perception:
Ari continues to listen, but say nothing, waiting for Helga and Sawrik to finish talking.
While the others talk, Kurn slowly moves over toward the chained prisoner for a closer look at him.
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Tavnia and Sawrik notices Kurn walk over and the skald stops talking, "that is one of those black-hearted dwarves. We had a compact with them, but they killed someone. Unfortunately for him, we found this grave digger over the body with a crossbow bolt through his head."
"He is our prisoner to stop any more attacks. Don't get too close, he bites."
The little boy, Thorsten, follows Kurnu over to take a look. He stumbles on the bench edge.
Tavnia continues, "so what do you think?"
Ragnar breaks his silence now that things are less formal. He speaks slowly to be understood.
"Muh nuhm uhs Ruhgnuhr Stuhlln-Vuhss; uh'm uh suhlluhr 'n uh wuhrriuh. Wuht cuhn yuh tuhll uhs uhbuht th' buhnduht Vuhtuhguh uhnd th' dwuhves? Whuh duhd thuh bruhk thuhr cuhmpuhct?"
Translation:
"Aye, Ragnar, I learned the dverge tongue from one of their southern kin - for a dwarf to break a treaty is near-unheard of."
Anya keeps silent but digs into her meal and drink with gusto. Her eyes keep drifting back to the Skald for her warrior's instincts still told her he was not to be trusted. And right or wrong, she always trusted and followed her own instincts.
As Kurn moved over to the dwarf however, Anya's gaze now, out of curiosity, followed him. She had now particular feelings about dwarfs one way or another but she never liked to see any man chained. In her view, one should be free or one should be dead, nothing more and nothing less.
Perception
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"Our jarl was taken by the deep dverge to the north. Our leader, Bombur joined the army sent to free him and make the dwarves follow our the pact to trade metals for food and other supplies. When they took our Jarl they broke faith and deserved everything they got." Sawrik answers with the young man next to him nodding.
"That dwarf is from a small band to the north who we had a separate agreement with. He says he killed no one, but he lies. The dwarves all gone to war so now he is held in case they come south from their dirty holes and attack Stuvoy."
"So you see these are not dwarves to be trusted or respected, like those where you came from. They are a pack of grave digging moles."
Perception:
Initiative:
Catching sight of the imminent attack Anya shouts out a furious warning "Sorcery! You traitor!". In the same instant she leaps up on the table and, heedless of the dinner display charges down it's length befoe launching herself into a flying tackle at the young man. The raging fury that boils in her eyes at this act of betrayal lends her limbs a strength greater than most men ever posess.
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The barbarian girl explodes into action and flies over to Thorsten, tackling him to the ground. Without heed for her own safety she jumps far from her seat , hits the boy hard, , but is unable to hold him down.
The boy speaks out with growing anger until he is almost shrieking at the end, "the captain muST DIE!" Everyone turns to see the hot fires in his eyes, like driven madness.
He gets up again and charges at Kurn.
Initiative:
Kurn stands his ground and punches Thorsten in the face as he approaches
"The boy is possessed!" Helga shouts, perhaps unnecessarily. She steps in front of the Priest of Krakis, arms out wide. "Thorsten, remember yourself!"